#i support them for healing from this affliction

[shoddynomenclature]

Heya 👋 I enjoy reading your headcanons, and I love your prompts… could you write the ladies for #5 Tav fainting from a hidden injury?

Tav Faints Due to Hidden Injury

Hey! I always enjoy reading yours as well! Feel free to use any of those prompts as I’d love to see your take on them.

I probably won’t do anything more injury prompts for a while; there’s only so many ways I can hurt poor Tav.

Here’s prompt #5 for Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, and Minthara.

On the way into Baldur’s Gate, while all of your companions watch the lands free themselves of the shadow curse, you manage to walk carelessly into a broken cart handle. You’re no healer, but you know Shadowheart is going to have a thing or two to say if you ask her to patch it up. You decide it doesn’t look that bad, and patch it up yourself. It’s an exciting day, finally arriving in the city. Why bring down the mood with a fresh gash in the side?

Shadowheart

The two of you are taking a short walk to familiarize yourselves with the new camp at Wrym’s Lookout.

You had been trying to keep your cool, but as you climbed up ladders and dodged rumble, you felt the ache in your side start to grow.

You stop and lean against a beam for support, clutching your side and breathing heavily.

“Are you alright, love?” Shadowheart asks tenderly, approaching you slowly before you quickly collapse on the ground.

She rushes over, trying and failing to catch you. She rolls you over on your back, lifting your shirt.

She sees the makeshift bandages you’ve wrapped yourself in and carefully slices away at them with her dagger.

She flinches, seeing the deep gash in your skin. Luckily, you just happen to be in love with one of the best clerics around. A cure wounds spell patches you right up.

You wake up almost immediately to a very unhappy looking Shadowheart.

“Care to explain the massive laceration I just found under your shirt?” She quips. “Or, are we just withholding such information with one another these days.”

“You’re one to talk about withholding information,” you attempt to joke.

She does not laugh. “So I suppose you’ve just forgotten how you acquired such a wound?”

You sighed. “It was on the bridge on the way over. I-I impaled myself with a piece of wood.”

She hits the back of your head with the back of her hand. “Ow!” You shout.

“It would’ve taken me two seconds to heal that wound up fresh. Now you’ve probably got a variety of different diseases swimming around from how poorly you packed it.”

She reaches out a hand to help you to your feet. “Let’s go,” she says. “I’m going to teach you how to properly wrap a wound.”

Lae’zel

You and Lae’zel walk alongside the city walls, just outside the city. Looking for clear signs of damage from the Netherbrain.

She comments a few times on how you are moving slower than usual. “We cannot afford to be so sluggish in the days to come,” she tells you.

It isn’t until you fade paler than Vlaakith herself that she notices something is seriously wrong. You fall to the ground before she can think to catch you.

She notices blood beginning to speckle your undershirt. “Tsk’va!” She curses, cutting away the fabric entirely.

You’re too far from camp and losing too much blood for her to get you back in time. She’s going to have to deal with this herself.

But she couldn’t tell you the first thing about closing a wound.

Hair. She remembers a ghustil sewing her up with a strand of her own hair. She plucks a hair from your head and gets to work.

You wake up halfway through the delicate operation, half crying from the pain of the repeated rough stabbing of your already tender wound.

“Silence!” She shouts, lazer focused on the task at hand. It doesn’t take a psionic tadpole connection to tell that she is angry.

When she’s finally finished, the wound looks… unpleasant to put it mildly. But it should be enough to get you back to camp.

“I didn’t think I needed to explain to you the stupidity of hiding grave afflictions,” she spits.

You open your mouth to apologize, but she cuts you off. “I will not hear apologies, only promises that it will not happen again.”

Karlach

Growing up on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate, Karlach is all too excited to revisit some of her favorite places with you.

Her excitement makes for an easy distraction. She is so focused on her surroundings she doesn’t notice the way you grind your teeth together in pain.

“Hey Soldier, check this out,” she shouts excitedly, walking back towards you with some cool plants she found.

You try to smile, but whiteness clouds your vision as you fall to the ground. She drops the plant and runs to hold you up.

“Soldier? You know you’re not supposed to go and pass out on me. I don’t know how to…”

Panic starts to rise in her chest and she lays you gently on the ground. “Alright Karlach, you got this,” she assures herself.

She lifts the base of your shirt, starting to panic again when she sees the blood soaked bandages.

She gingerly removes them revealing the nasty gash underneath. “Oh boy, you really did a number on yourself,” she says.

She looks around, trying to find absolutely anything that could close the wound. She didn’t know any spells, nor did she know anything about sutures.

She sighed. She had an idea, but she didn’t like it. “Okay soldier, I’m just gonna need you to stay asleep for a little while longer. Can you do that for me?”

Dammon had fixed up her engine so she didn’t burn so hot anymore, but she was pretty sure she could just get hot enough….

She pinched the wound together, then, with clenched teeth, she placed her other hand on top of it. She channeled all of her anger until she smelt the burning of flesh.

You jolted awake with a scream and she pulled away. The wound was now replaced with a cauterized burn.

“It worked! You’re okay!” She exclaimed, rather impressed with herself. “You are never allowed to do that to me again.”

You groan, sitting up. Your head is still spinning from pain and blood loss. You sway ever so slightly.

“Woah, slow down there soldier,” Karlach says, gently pushing you back to lie down. “Again does include right now, you know. Come on. Let’s get you back to camp.”

Minthara

You and Minthara take a stroll around the outer city, allowing her to take in a surface city for the first time.

Not far into your walk though, you begin to feel lightheaded. “Minthara I think I need to sit-“ you are cut off abruptly by your own collapse.

You fall limp onto the cobblestone on the city streets.

She is quickly down beside, cooling your face with her cool hands. It’s only then she notices the bloody bandages under your shirt.

Confused, she cuts away with them away, revealing your injury.

Her face immediately pales. The wound is mild, nothing she is incapable of handling with a simple laying of hand. But you kept this from her.

She patches the wound with a gentle touch. But her mind continues to race. Why would you not tell her? Do you not trust her? Should she trust you?

You stir awake with a whine. The pain in your side is dulled, and you’re able to sit up with relative ease.

Minthara stares harshly back at you, silently awaiting an explanation. When you don’t offer one she asks, “why have you kept this from me?” She tries to hide her hurt behind anger.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “It’s just- I knew you were excited to see the city- and it was a stupid injury anyway I just- I didn’t want to be a bother.“

She looks dissatisfied with your answer. “We do not keep such grave secrets from one another. My trust is a fragile thing.”

You sigh, defeated. “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

[baambastic]

Woo Be Upon Ye:

Medieval fantasy TimKon AU where Kon is a half-dragon prince of the realm who elevates commoner Tim to the Royal Guard on a whim. Also has Bart as an apprentice mage, Donna and Cassie as Themiscyran ambassadors, many of Tim’s school friends as Royal Guards, Wildcat as a mentor, the Daily Planet staff as the royal council, and more! Planned as part one of a four-part series.

Bernard Dowd vs. The World:

After hearing Tim’s many, many, many stories about his friends, Bernard realizes that almost all of Tim’s guy friends were hitting on Tim at multiple points. Failing to convince Tim of this, however, Bernard makes it his mission to obtain written testimonies from as many of said friends as he can to support his case. Such friends include Superboy, Danny Temple, Sebastian Ives, Lonnie Machin, and more.

Two for the Price of Them:

In this AU, Tim’s 100th cloning attempt is a success, and so clones of both Kon and Bart are created. Partway through the artificial aging process, however, an agent of N.O.W.H.E.R.E. (overhauled from the same metahuman-abduction organization from the New52) attacks. Tim is forced to go on the run and off the grid with the two clone babies.

The World Didn’t Stand Still:

When Kathy Branden plugs a Phantom Zone Crystal into her teleportal and visits the Phantom Zone, she comes back with a young Krytonian boy, Chris Kent, who claims to be the foster son of Clark Kent and Lois Lane. Effectively taking pre-boot Chris from after his debut story and transporting him into post-Rebirth continuity. Part of a planned trilogy of fics centered on Chris. Guaranteed that they will not end with Chris getting punted into the Phantom Zone for an unknown length of time.

The Dichotomy of Lor-Zod and Chris Kent:

In post-Infinite Frontiers continuity, Lor-Zod begins getting flashes of a life before his own, of a life where he was family to the loathsome Kal-El of the House of El. Lor’s father, Dru-Zod, convince Lor that his affliction must be the machinations of the Justice League’s Martian Manhunter, a psychic attack meant to weaken New Kandor for invasion. Along with Non as a chaperone, Lor-Zod goes on a quest to hunt the Martian Manhunter, though he’s really on the path to restoring his pre-boot history and identity, and all the internal conflict that comes from the contradictions between his two selves. Effectively how I would approach reconciling the current iteration of Lor-Zod with Chris Kent. Guest-starring Martian Manhunter and M’gann M’orzz.

The Cola Caper:

Upon hearing the devastating news that an embargo on the island nation of Santa Prisca will halt the distribution of Zesti Cola in the United States, Dick and Tim go on a mission to infiltrate Santa Prisca and abscond with as much Zesti as they can, and maybe even the secret recipe if they’re lucky.

Stray Little Tiger:

A Billy Batson-centric fic placed in a Stray!Tim Drake AU. Selina Kyle, on her way home from a caper, comes across a lightning-struck boy in an alley. Clearly homeless and in need of help, she decides to take the boy in until he’s healed, though the lightning seems to have severely damaged his vocal cords. She doesn’t know that this boy is Billy Batson, that he’s Captain Marvel, or that there’s something deeply wrong with the Rock of Eternity. This story is told mainly from Selina’s POV, with occasional sidetracks to Tim’s POV, but never Billy’s POV. Identity shenanigans, found family, magic problems, and more.

A Single Word Spoken:

A girl in the shape of a weapon is brought to Fawcett City, where she fulfills her purpose for the first and last time.

The girl who can no longer be a weapon hides from her wielder in an old subway and finds herself transported to a place of great magic.

There, the girl who wishes to be more than she was made to be finds a Wizard, who sees the girl for her heart and not for the blood staining her skin.

The Wizard teaches the girl a name.

Cassandra speaks her first word.

And in so doing, she speaks power.

Also featuring Cass navigating the anachronistic Fawcett City, befriending Billy Batson, codependency issues, an old man who’s also a Bengal tiger, ancient grudges, a different old man who’s barely qualified to give Cass life advice, and more.

Fake it For the Win:

While on a cruise, Tim and Kon decide to fake being married in order to compete on an onboard game show for married couples. When they actually win, though, they have no choice but to keep up the act for the rest of their trip. Fake dating to real dating, with a focus on comedy.

Crossroads of Fate and Eternity:

JLI-era fic with a couple of canon-divergent indulgences. Kent Nelson, helped by Khalid Nassour, decides to take Billy Batson under his wing as a student of the mystic arts. Magic lessons, Tower of Fate and Rock of Eternity shenanigans, Bromfield family stuff, an ancient entity and an ancient demon, philosophy, and other such tidbits.

A Little Ways Along the Family Tree:

When a villain travels through time to the future and accidentally takes Robin with him, Damian Wayne must team up with Mar’i and Jake Grayson to defeat the villain and return Damian to his proper time.

A High-Speed Romantic Tryst on an Open-Water Murder Shack:

When a couple of thugs steal a houseboat belonging to one of Tim’s marina neighbors while he and Bernard are hanging out, the two of them give chase in Tim’s own houseboat. Comedy, crack treated seriously.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Do you ever think of Wylan as one of the most mature crows at the end of the books?

This is a really interesting question, and I think I would agree at least for the most part. Although all the crows undergo great personal development during the duology, I think that Wylan and Inej are the two left in the healthiest position they could be in at that time. The interesting thing about Wylan, for me at least, I’d the scene when Genya is tailoring him to lose Kuwei’s features and return to his own. In an attempt to encourage Jesper to tell her that he’s a Fabrikator, Wylan admits to Genya that he cannot read. Wylan, who at the end of soc was “red-faced” and “barely able to speak the words of his supposed affliction” (or something to that effect, sorry I don’t usually write these with the book on me to double check), is now able to openly admit it. He clearly struggles and Jesper describes him blushing and seeming visibly embarrassed, but he is still capable of so much more than he was previously. Genya’s reply is simply “that’s because no-one took the time to teach you”, and here’s the thing: I STRONGLY believe that the version of Wylan that existed at the end of soc would have stayed silent and let her believe that, but now he is able to correct her and say “lots of people took the time to teach me, it’s just something I can’t do”.

The nonchalence in Genya after this revelation is also massively important, because it shows Wylan that people will not always react like his father did. Because even though it didn’t change the Crows’ feelings for him, ultimately there people he already knew loved him and who were so different to his father in so many ways, including in their position in the world. But this is someone with no preconceived notions about him, high up in her government as his father is in theirs, and she simply does not care either way, it has no effect on her attitude or behaviour around him, and really that’s all that matters because they have no relationship. One of the saddest things about Wylan’s ending is that, even though he and Jesper are able to trick them, the Merchant Council react the exact same way to the suggestion that he can’t read that he feared they would - “How could you say such a thing about your own blood?”, as though it’s a horrendous insult. But having already admitted it to Genya shows Wylan that there’s a massive gulf between those who care wholly too much and judge him for it (his father, the council) and those who care in a support capacity but are entirely unaffected by it in their feelings towards him (crows, presumably his mother) and the people in that gulf simply don’t care. I think for a child who’s been scrutinised and judged and abused their entire life for not being enough, knowing that the vast amount of people don’t care what he’s going to amount to can be very empowering as long as he also knows that there are people who care in a supportive capacity as well.

I think this opens Wylan up to being able to mature more than the others since he’s found the power that will put him on the road to healing, as Inej has. For Jesper, the importance is that he has begun to look for that power - and will quite possibly find it in Wylan. However, I would always point out the immensity of Jesper requesting to have his money from the job put in his father’s name; is absolutely massive for him, it shows such a maturity to admit the problem even if he hasn’t found the way to healing yet, it’s incredibly important and should not be missed. For Kaz and Nina it feels a bit more complex to find their maturity, I think for Kaz there’s an want to find the oath to healing fighting against an active hatred of healing that’s been forced upon him by the city (I’ve talked about this a little bit before) and for Nina it gets more complex with the loss of Matthias, but I think she knows that she’ll find what she needs to in Fjerda and that’s the first step she needs to take. I also think that Matthias has undergone massive maturity before his death, and I’ve spoken about this a lot in my recent discussion of religion in the Grishaverse but he has undergone so much change and so much genuine improvement and attempts at improvement not only in acceptance but in his own well-being and starting to heal himself from us trauma as well. I think that if he hadn’t passed away he would’ve been a contender for most mature, but it’s also coping with his loss that has a massive impact on the maturity of the others.

I hope this made sense and thanks so much for your question! ❤️

[viviennevermillion]

Mortals and Fools — First Look #1 (Coming Soon)

Want to read a SFW coming-of-age fantasy novel with evil gods, two adult aspec protagonists and magic? Consider supporting this project!

Author's Note: After a total of 8 years of posting fanfiction on this account, I am excited to announce that I am finally starting my first long-term original work as an author! Goal is to get this series published as an actual novel but until then, I will be uploading chapters online as I write them, hopefully building an audience in the process! Mortals and Fools will be available on Wattpad and potentially other platforms. The first 4 chapters will be uploaded to Tumblr as well. Over the next few weeks I will keep uploading promo posts with new characters and more info! Thank you so much to everyone who has supported me as a writer over the years and welcome to everyone who's new here!

Summary: In the land of Elsthess, brilliant but arrogant Dr. Immanuel Faust is doing his best to follow the teachings of the Goddess of Wisdom, live up to his late grandmother's expectations and hide the fact that he has been seeing strange, mystical apparitions all his life. When his pupil becomes afflicted with an ancient curse and the things he has seen turn out to be more than just hallucinations, Immanuel must forge a contract with Morgan, a being from another realm who's ready to humble him at every turn, and learn his religion's most despised art: magic. As he steps outside of the simple world he has grown up in, he slowly comes to realize that there is much more to learn for him still.

Themes:

The Meaning of Wisdom & Growth

Unlearning harmful narratives and prejudices

Religious Trauma

Healing from Abuse

Rebuilding trust in others

Learning to understand others

Navigating radical changes during adulthood

Elitism and class inequality

The problems with the ideal of meritocracy

Queerplatonic & Alterous Attraction

Addiction

Gender Dysphoria

What this story contains:

A variety of fun magical powers!

Evil Gods & Forces from other Realms!

Queer rep! (demisexual & aroace protagonists, a trans man and a wlw couple)

Mysteries to unravel

The coming-of-age fantasy adventures you're used to from YA novels but with characters in their 20s and struggles of adulthood

Humor

My blood, sweat and tears as an author

The Cast: Introducing 3 Characters

Here's some info on the three characters in the header, from left to right!

#1 — Dr. Immanuel Icarus Faust

❝ It wasn't supposed to be like this... I've failed... as both a doctor and a man of faith. I wanted to follow your teachings, dear Goddess, and guide those who seek wisdom and knowledge, as grandmother did... but I couldn't even save one innocent girl. Have I become godless? ❝

Raised by his grandmother, the High Priestess of Solbrynn's temple, Immanuel was taught from an early age on to aspire to be the best in everything he attempted to do and dedicate his life to wisdom, in order to make the Goddess Adira proud. Having become a renowned physician at the age of 28, Immanuel understands himself as his kingdom's ideal of a self-made man: a scholar who can achieve everything he puts his mind to, no matter the circumstances. As a result, he has put himself on a pedestal, believing that those who achieved less than him had all the chances and merely didn't use them. Fearing nothing more than failure and becoming anything like his absent, alcoholic father; Immanuel is bound for a rude awakening.

#2 — Morgan Miralaith

❝ While you were having your existential crisis in the mad scientist laboratory you call your bedroom, I took the liberty to read your grandmother's diary. The good news is, I finally understand where all the hubris comes from. ❝

Morgan, belonging to a long-lived species from the realm of Calliah, is the second-in-command for the Elsthess Resistance against the Plague Avatars. While the Resistance on Mhorunn regards her as a capable leader and a skilled fighter; using fire magic to blaze her way to victory; it is clear to most that she has many secrets and ulterior motives. She cares about others in her own way, yet hardly lets anyone close to her. With her mischievous demeanor and cynical nature, Morgan has made it her new mission to recruit Immanuel for the Resistance and, while at it, shatter his very distorted self-image and worldview. Upon forging a contract with her, Immanuel believes that he has sold his soul to a demon. It is only upon meeting others of her kind that he realizes that really is just her personality.

#3 — Mortis Grimm

❞ People reject that which is foreign to them. You of all people should know this. Still, my personal aspirations and origins are of no concern to you. Remember that. ❝

While there are several people from the Realm of Calliah in Elsthess, the realm that Mortis Grimm originated from is unknown. He seems to be the only one of his kind and there is something sinister about him. Wielding powerful magic that matches no other in recorded nature, Mortis, despite being the leader of the Resistance, is a big mystery to all of its members. Usually donning a Plague Doctor mask, Morgan is among the few to have seen his face. He is Mhorunn's greatest ally, but hardly a trusted one. Most understand that he could just as well become its greatest enemy one day.

Interested in reading more and receiving updates as they're posted? Comment on this post and tell me if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Reblogs are appreciated to spread the word! 💞

Taglist — @gwaaaaar @silveryloneliness @noxochicoztliv @justletmeon12 @averytirednerd @letsallsleepoverwork @styrofauxm @non-pressurizeddiamond @mangoinacan13 @amateurmasksmith @kenobiblue @soru-dee @pictures-of-the-stars @elf-osamu @animusicnerd @jaytherat-hometothereblog @watcherofeternalflame

[traumacatholic]

I was told there is a 50% chance I'll need a root canal that I just can't afford. I don't know how much more stress and humiliation I can take. prayers appreciated greatly.

I'm really sorry to hear this. It would also be worth looking into local and national charities and seeing if there's any that exist that can offer financial aid / support for dental treatments that are outside of your budget. I would imagine that there would be some support and advice for people in your position. Please also do consider reaching out to your local Church (or local Churches) and seeing if there's any kind of support and guidance they can provide. They might be able to signpost you to some kind of support, but at the very least having their prayers also can be of some great comfort and support.

I'm going to put some prayers under the readmore, that you might find to be of help

Prayers for all sick people

O Lord Almighty, healer of our souls and bodies, Who putteth down and raiseth up, Who chastiseth and health also; now, in Thy great mercy, visit our brothers and sisters who are sick. Stretch forth Thy hand that is full of healing and health, and raise them up, and cure them of their illness. Put away from them the spirit of disease and of every malady, pain and fever to which they are bound. And if they have sins and transgressions, grant to them remission and forgiveness, for Thou lovest humankind. Yea, O Lord my God, have pity on Thy creation, through the compassions of Thine only-begotten Son, together with Thine all-holy, good, and life-creating Spirit, with whom Thou art blessed, both now and ever, and to ages of ages.

Prayers for yourself in sickness

O Lord Jesus Christ our Saviour, the Physician of our souls and bodies, Who didst become Man and suffer death on the Cross for our salvation, and through Thy tender love and compassion didst heal all manner of sickness and affliction: do Thou, O Lord, visit me in my suffering, and grant me grace and strength to bear this sickness with which I am afflicted, with Christian patience and submission to Thy will, trusting in Thy lovingkindness and tender mercy. Bless, I pray Thee, the means used for my recovery, and those who administer them. I know, O Lord, that I justly deserve any punishment Thou mayest inflict upon me, for I have so often offended Thee and sinned against Thee in thought, word, and deed. Therefore, I humbly pray to Thee, look upon my weakness, and deal not with me according to my sins, but according to the multitude of Thy mercies. Have compassion on me, and let mercy and justice meet; and deliver me from the sickness and suffering I am undergoing. Grant that my sickness may be the means of my true repentance and amendment of my life according to Thy will, that I may spend the rest of my days in Thy love and fear; that my soul, being helped by Thy grace and sanctified by Thy holy mysteries, may be prepared for its transition to the eternal life and there, in the company of Thy blessed saints, may praise and glorify Thee with Thy Eternal Father and Life-giving Spirit. Amen.

* * *

O Holy Father, heavenly Physician of the body and soul, Who hast sent Thine Only-begotten Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, to heal ailments and deliver us from death; do Thou heal me, Thy servant, of all suffering, and restore me to health by the grace of Thy Divine Son, through the intercessions of our Most Holy Queen Ever-virgin Mary, the Mother of God, and all the saints. For Thou art the Fountain of all cure, O Lord, and we give thanks to Thee, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, now and forever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.

Prayer for Protection

O Lord, Thou who steadied the hand of Peter as he began to sink on the stormy sea, if Thou are with me, no one is against me. Grant to me the shield of faith and the mighty armor of the Holy Spirit to protect me and guide me to do Thy will. The future I put into Thy hands, O Lord, and I follow Thee to a life in Christ. Amen

Prayers for Oneself in Time of Need

Almighty God, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, come to my help and deliver me from this difficulty that besets me. I believe Lord, that all trials of life are under Your care and that all things work for the good of those who love You. Take away from me fear, anxiety and distress. Help me to face and endure my difficulty with faith, courage and wisdom.

Grant that this trial may bring me closer to You for You are my rock and refuge, my comfort and hope, my delight and joy. I trust in Your love and compassion. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Prayer for Oneself in Times of Sickness

O Lord, Healer of our bodies and souls, visit me with Your loving-kindness and stretch forth Your hand of healing. Raise me up from this bed of sickness, and heal me of all disease, pain, and fever that is binding me. We bless and honour You, our most holy Father, gracious Son, and life-creating Spirit, both now and forever. Amen. Almighty God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, because You love mankind, pity Your creation. Your only-begotten Son taught us that not even the smallest sparrow falls to the ground without Your knowledge. We pray to You for Your servant [name here], for the healing of body and soul. Calm me with confidence in the fullness of Your love. To You belongs all our praise and worship, to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, unto ages of ages. Amen.

Prayer to St. Spyridon of Trimythus

O most blessed hierarch Spyridon, thou great Saint of Christ and glorious wonder-worker!

Standing in heaven before the throne of God with choirs of Angels, look down with a compassionate eye upon the people gathered here (names may be added) and asking thy powerful help.

Entreat the merciful kindness of God Who loveth mankind, that He judge us not according to our iniquities, but rather act towards us according to His mercy.

Ask for us of Christ our God, a peaceful and serene life, health of soul and body, a fruitful earth, and in all things abundance and prosperity; that we turn not unto evil the good things bestowed upon us by our generous God, but rather unto His glory and the praise of thine intercession.

Deliver us, who with unswerving faith approach God, from all ills, whether spiritual or physical; from all discouragements and diabolical snares.

Be a consoler unto those in sorrow, a healer of the infirm, a helper of those in troubles, a coverer of the naked, a defender of widows, a protector of orphans, a nourisher of infants, a strengthener of the aged, a guide unto travellers, a compass to those that sail, and pray for all that seek thy mighty intercession, that they may receive all that is profitable unto their salvation: so that, taught and kept by thy prayers, we may attain eternal rest and together with thee glorify God, Who is One in the Holy Trinity, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages.

Prayer to Saint Nicholas the Wonderworker

Hierarch and father, O most holy Nicholas, thou extraordinary Saint of the Lord, our loving defender and ready helper in sorrows everywhere: help us sinners and hapless ones in the present life: entreat the Lord God to grant us remission of all of our sins, that we have committed from our youth and all our life, by deed, word, though and all our senses; and in the passing of our souls, help us wretched ones; entreat the Lord God and Maker of all creation, to deliver us from trials in the air and eternal torment: that we may alway glorify the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and thy merciful intercession, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.

Prayer in Time of Trouble 

O God, our help and assistance Who is just and merciful, and Who hears the supplications of Your people, look down upon me.  Have mercy upon me and deliver me from the trouble that besets me.  Deal not with me after my sins, but according to Your bountiful mercies, for I am the work of Your hands and You know my weakness. Grant me, I beseech You, Your divine helping grace, and endow me with patience and strength to endure my tribulations with complete submission to Your Will.  You know my misery and suffering and to You, my only hope and refuge, I flee for relief and comfort.  Trusting in Your infinite love and compassion, I know that in due time, when You know best, You will deliver me from this trouble and turn my distress into comfort.  I shall rejoice in Your mercy and exalt and praise Your Holy Name, of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, forever.  Amen.

[sl33paholics]

Hello! If I am the same anonymous person with the request for Jack/Kurekha. Forgive me in advance for not writing my idea right away😅😅😅 I have a little idea for a story: Kureha visits Jack after his fight with Pickle to support him morally

Brotherly Support

Warning(s): Major spoilers to those who aren't up to date with Baki Hanma and haven't seen the Pickle vs Jack fight. Otherwise, just fluff and wholesome shii.

Kureha quickly rushed to the hospital after getting a call that Jack endured serious injuries done to his face, at first, Kureha didn't think much of it considering Jack's history and what his main goal is. However, when it was mentioned that the injuries were caused by the primitive creature, Pickle, Kureha dropped what he was doing.

The long reddish-orange hair man got to Jack's room, seeing the blonde laying there as he stared blankly at the ceiling. "Jack..." Kureha slowly walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. The more he got closer, the more he could see half of Jack's face covered in bandages. Pulling a chair next to the bed, Kureha sat down. "I heard over the phone that your face got ripped off...I came as fast I could to see if you're alright. However, you seem perfectly calm despite the circumstances." He mentioned, staring at the man. Jack groaned in response.

Kureha looked at the small board, the papers stating the impact of his trauma. "..biting..." he heard Jack let out a belly laugh, turning his attention towards the 8ft male. "That man... his bite was unbelievable. It honestly shocked me. To challenge a man his size, his power, and his strength makes me feel honored." Jack whispered, his voice now raspy due to the wounds as he turned his head to Kureha, his brown eyes meeting his own. "And the fact that I'm here in this hospital, in this bed, without finishing the fight is disrespectful." The blonde continued while Kureha sat there and listened to Jack talk about the fight he had with primitive man.

Jack slowly sat up, Kureha swiftly put his hand on Jack's chest making the man look at him in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"Lay back down, Jack. Your afflictions need to heal. You just got here."

Jack smacked Kureha's hand off of him, turning his attention outside the window, giving Kureha the side-eye. "I know why you do the things that you do, I understand," Kureha said as Jack raised an eyebrow to his comment, "I can't stop you from doing the things that you do, believe me, you could kill me if I pushed you any further..." Kureha, place the brown board on the counter. "However, I'll support you through this. I just need you to stay here for a little longer, Jack. Let them heal."

Jack turned his attention back to the window, lost in thought for a moment before his gaze fell to his bruised hands. He decided to lay back down on the hospital bed, his body still aching from the recent battle. Jack took what Kureha had said into consideration. Out of all the people in his life, his words carried a special weight, and he knew he needed to listen to his advice.

The hospital room was quiet, save for the soft hum of machines and the occasional footsteps echoing in the hallway. Jack's mind raced as he reflected on the recent events and the path that lay ahead. Kureha's support had been a constant throughout his recovery, and he realized just how fortunate he was to have someone like him in his life.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

I can't wait for the next part of the trio saving werewolf!reader it was so good!

Ask: I can't wait for the next part of the trio saving werewolf!reader it was so good! 

Ask: Hi! Just read part one of what is hopefully a mini-series of the trio x werewolf reader, and I can’t wait to see what happens next. If you like some suggestions on how to continue: maybe part two could be about the Reader learning how to be free, or perhaps the Trio helping reader recover enough to be able to shift back to being a human? Either way, can’t wait to see what else you have planned. Thank you so much!

[Combining the two asks here.]

A/N: My toxic trait? Answering asks for Part 2s of something I wrote over a year ago and then promptly abandoned lol. (To Read Part 1 to refresh your memory, like I had to do, click here [x].)

✥ ✥ ✥

“Do you think they’ll ever be able to turn back?” Sypha asked from where she stood, in one of the many rows of bookshelves lining the Belmont hold. 

Several levels below her, Trevor grunted as he hauled large pieces of shattered support beams to the base of the main staircase. “It’s impressive how sentient they are now, being a were-creature and all.” 

“Yes, but they don’t want to stay a creature for the rest of their lives.” 

“Well, life isn’t always fucking fair,” Trevor cursed, half-out of breath, as he began lugging the large beam up the stairs. 

“I’m fairly certain she knows that,” Alucard intervened, entering the main chamber, having just arrived fresh off the newly built lift he installed. “Speakers see far more suffering than most people, seeing as they believe it is their duty to help the less fortunate.” 

“How’s the lift?” Sypha asked, coming over to the railing. “Does it work? Were the calculations correct?” 

Alucard nodded. “I needed to modify a few measurements, considering the potential excess weight load-”

“We’re not that heavy,” Trevor interrupted. “Or do you plan to start bringing villagers in by the dozen and give tours?” 

Alucard narrowed his eyes at Trevor. “I was considering the repairs that need to be done for all the damage the night creatures inflicted. Unless of course, you’d prefer to drag that thing up yet another hundred feet.” 

Trevor huffed, refusing to show his fatigue. “What? This old thing?” He locked his knees to keep them from buckling. “Can barely feel it.” 

Sypha rolled her eyes. “Could the two of you stop competing for one second?! We’re supposed to be looking for ways to help our friend!” 

Admitting defeat, Trevor dropped the large piece of timber at the next landing. “Sypha, we’ve been at it for months. Every book says the same thing: only the shapeshifter can cause a shift at will. Outside of whoever cursed them with the affliction undoing it themselves. Or killing the shapeshifter and using death magic to alter their form post-mortem, there’s nothing any of us can do.” 

Accepting her friend had a point, Sypha took one of the adjoining bridges, healing toward Trevor as he stopped to catch his breath. 

“I could freeze that beam and toss it out you know,” she gestured to where Alucard currently stood. 

“The last time you did that, we ended up with a giant hole in the ground.” 

“That wasn’t me, that was the night creatures.” 

“But you did break the castle,” Alucard countered. “All of the gears were melted.”

“I did not! I do not break things. I am a Speaker, I fix things!” 

Alucard chuckled, sharing a knowing look with Trevor. For as knowledgeable as she was, she certainly had a hard time admitting when she was wrong. 

“In either case, it will take years to repair, even with my vampiric speed and strength. Dracula engineered those cogs and wheels over several centuries, often hiring the best blacksmiths around.” 

The trio boarded the lift together, Trevor having decided to leave the broken beam behind for another day. 

“They worked here? With him?” Sypha asked. 

“The castle’s forge is quite extensive. And no matter their level of skill, I doubt any local blacksmith’s forge would be large enough to mold such immense gears. They could only manage such creation within the walls of the castle.” 

Trevor scoffed. “Did they know who they were working for?” 

“I’m certain they had suspicions, but I doubt my Fath-, Dracula ever told them the truth.” 

“That’s-” Trevor started.

“Sad,” Sypha finished for him. “To be alone all that time. To not be able to tell anyone who you are.” 

The ingenious pulley system lift finally came to a stop as it became level with the forest ground outside the Belmont hold. 

“Is that why you wish to help them so badly?” Alucard asked, referring to their new werewolf companion. “You feel they’re lonely?” 

“Well they were lonely, back in that cage, in that life,” Sypha reminded her friends, as Alucard locked the lift in place.

“They seem better now,” Trevor remarked, being the first to disembark. “After all, you keep bugging them every day, they’re hardly lonely.” 

Sypha elbowed him, lovingly. “I do not bug them. They enjoy my company.” 

“You keep forgetting Speakers are used to traveling in large groups,” Alucard reminded Belmont, once again, as the trio made their way back toward the entrance of the castle. “It’s shocking how much you've forgotten, the two of you being companions and all.” 

“The three of us being companions,” Sypha placed a reassuring hand on Alucard’s shoulder. 

The dhampir gave a soft smile at the Speaker’s action before averting his eyes. Stepping out of her embrace, he started to ascend the many stone steps at the front of the castle. 

“It’s about time for dinner. Let me see what I can cook up.” 

✥

It had been a few months since the trio and their newfound companion arrived back home at Castlevania. Most of that time was spent with Sypha and Trevor bickering over how best to treat their new friend, while Alucard dedicated his time in between assessing the broken mechanisms of the castle to reading all of the tomes his father had collected on shapeshifting. Unfortunately, all roads pointed in the same direction: it was up to their friend to shift themselves back. 

At the present moment their werewolf friend, or Wynn, as they liked to be called, was resting in one of the many castle bedrooms. Their furry body was sprawled out over the entire length of the mattress, as they lazily tracked falling specks of dust around with their big puppy-dog eyes. 

Despite spending so much time resting, they felt exhausted this evening. It was as if the last few months of recovery meant nothing! 

‘I don’t know why I’m so tired,’ they thought, shifting to curl up in a tighter ball. 

Finally shutting their eyes, they made one final wish before drifting off to sleep, the same wish they had been making every night for god knows how long. 

‘Please let me be human when I wake up, please.’ 

✥

The sun had barely peaked over the horizon. Trevor and Alucard had woken up early to finally start clearing the major debris from the Belmont hold using the newly designed lift. So far Alucard had cleared twelve large beams while Trevor had managed to remove seven. Not that it was a competition or anything. It was at this point that Sypha had come to join them. 

“Well if it isn’t Sleeping Beauty, finally come to grace us humble footmen with her presence,” Trevor ribbed. 

“Nice pile,” Sypha gestured to Trevor’s lesser stack laid out next to Alucard’s. 

Trevor snorted. “Nice comeback.” 

Sypha crossed her arms. “I had a very long night last night. Which was entirely your fault by the way.” 

“My fault?” Trevor guffawed. “No no, I believe that last round was your fault.” 

Alucard, who had been watching amusedly from the sides, chose this moment to step in. “No, she’s right, I recall you were the one enticing us into that last round.” 

“Well, it’s not my fault if- hey,” Trevor suddenly straightened his back, and pointed to something in the distance. “Who’s that?” 

Both Alucard and Sypha turned around to see who Trevor was referring to. Almost immediately, Sypha clasped her hands together happily and began running over to meet this ‘stranger’. 

“Looks like Sypha wasn’t the last one to wake up,” Alucard nudged Trevor to come along. 

“No, but seriously, who the hell is that?” Trevor asked Alucard, keeping his wits about him. 

“You’re joking.” 

“I’ve never seen that person before in my life.” 

“That’s because you’ve never seen them before as a human.” 

Sypha, having finally reached Wynn where they stood, proudly and excitedly in their human form, pulled them in for a big hug. Clasping each other in a tight embrace, the two companion’s eyes began to water. 

“It’s so good to finally see you, my friend!” Sypha laughed, hugging Wynn closer. 

“It’s so good to be seen!” Wynn answered back, clearly overjoyed. 

After a good long moment, Sypha finally let go, turning around to face the boys. “Look who it is!” 

Wynn gave a polite wave, suddenly overcome by shyness under the focus of all three of their friends. “Um, hi? It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

Alucard stuck his hand out for a handshake, which Wynn eagerly accepted. “Likewise.” 

Sensing Trevor’s hesitation, Wynn outstretched their hand to Trevor. 

Shaking his head, Trevor grasped Wynn’s hand and pulled them in for a hug, nearly knocking them off their feet. 

Speechless and touched by Trevor’s gesture, Sypha shot a knowing look at Alucard. 

Despite being their gruff, sarcastic, and sometimes slower friend, Trevor really was like a teddy bear deep, deep underneath that jaded exterior. Sure, very few would ever come to know it unless they were close to him, but that made the trio’s relationship all the more special. And it was a very telling sign that Trevor was able to let his guard down for the sake of their new friend. 

It was as if at that very moment, the trio had become a quartet. And Wynn couldn’t be happier to finally be a part of it. 

[bitdemonic]

just caught myself up on what’s going on in the world as of today and my heart breaks for the state of Palestine💔 how horribly terrifying it must be to not only live during the ongoing turmoil of genocide, but to struggle through survival while your innocence and self-rights are being stripped away without choice.

my words cannot form a weapon against unjust onslaught, yet i’ll still say them in hopes that it can add onto the message of supporting those who are and inevitably will be affected by this tragedy. no one deserves the daily massacre of their own; people, family, home, or community when all they’ve done is exist. prayers for their restoration and equality, prayers for their wounds to heal after the afflicted trauma they never asked for. may those in Palenstine reign free; may the pain and suffering end in justice for their sacred lives.

this is not an opportunity to inflict anti-semitism upon those that are apart from the Palestinian movement, for i do not and will not condone hatred towards Jewish men and women. prayers for their safety as well, especially their children’s, during this horrific time.

❤️🤍🇵🇸

[lunarlianna]

Lunar Eclipse 05.05.2023

This lunar eclipse will be quite strong and chaotic, it takes place at 14 degree Scorpio making an opposition with the Sun, Mercury, Uranus and the NN all of them in Taurus at the moment we may be prone to bottle up our emotions and rationalize them instead of feeling them. A trine with Mars in Cancer, it’s supporting us in setting healthy boundaries. With the opposition to Uranus, we can expect the unexpected and seeing our emotions from an objective point of view. Remember what happened in your life back in May 2022 since the same themes can come back during this time. The numerology of the day it’s 555 which is a symbol of positive change. The advice for this weekend it’s to let go of old patterns and embrace change in all it’s forms.

3 affirmations that can help you during this lunar eclipse:

I release myself from my fears, traumas and insecurities.

I open myself to true intimacy and vulnerability.

I will not let my past failures or fears in regards to love control me.

Aries rising: the eclipse will take place in your 8th house; it can be time to let go of toxic patterns in regards to your sexual behaviour and finances. It’s the perfect time to do deep shadow work and psychological healing.

Taurus rising: for you it’s going to be an intense couple of days, since 7th house it’s affected. If you’ve been feeling lately that it’s time to let go of relationships that no longer serve you, this is the perfect moment. Think how are you in the relationship and what you can change.

Gemini rising: 6th house it’s the one afflicted, it can be a good time to release any habits that affect your health (smoking, alcohol etc), for some of your co-works may step on your nerves and some conflicts may appear.  It’s also a good time to let go of perfectionism.

Cancer rising: it’s time to let go of any self-imposed restrictions and be your unapologetically self. It’s a good time to be creative and let your imagination go wild or to have a beautiful and sweet date with someone special.

Leo rising: you may want to renovate your home or to improve something in your house. A conflict with one of the parents may arise but be mindful and don’t let your ego run wild, try to have a more peaceful conversation with them.

Virgo rising: this eclipse will be in your 3th house, how you communicate will be in the spotlight. You may have a lot of information’s coming your way it may be a good time to take a break and appreciate them. A sibling or close family member may come to you with a secret to share.

Libra rising: 2nd house of values it’s affected during this lunar eclipse, it can be a good period to check your finances and see ways to improve them. If you have troubles with your self-esteem this eclipse will shine a light there and will show you the way in order to improve it.

Scorpio rising: your 1st house of self-it’s highlighted during this time; it can be a good time to let go of your past self and embrace the upcoming changes. During this time try to release any old baggage that you are holding on. Don’t forget to forgive yourself.

Sagittarius rising: this eclipse it’s quite special for you since will be in the 12th house of spirituality, dreams and unconscious mind. In dreams your may find the answers that you long for. You can also benefit from a little isolation during this time and shadow work.

Capricorn rising: 11th house of friendship it’s activated, you may need to let go of friends that are no longer in alignment with your path, some of them may share with you disturbing news as well. An honest and deep conversation may happen with someone dear.

Aquarius rising: 10th house of career it’s activated, you may need to find balance between work and personal life. Some of you may get recognition in the work place. It can be a good time to dedicate time towards yourself and those close to you.

Pisces rising: 9th house of higher learning, travel and spirituality it’s activated during this time, it may be a good time to look objectively at you believes and higher learning plan that you have is it truly alignment with your core self? If not, it may be time to let it go.  Some of you may engage in very philosophical conversation that may change the way you view the world.

COPYRIGHT ‼️

Do not copy my posts or you will be sued for copyright infringement. All it takes is copying me a few times and it is considered illegal due to the copyright claim written at the bottom of my posts

Do not rewrite/copy my observations and post them to your Tiktok, Tumblr, Instagram

[datamodel-of-disaster]

Some thoughts about TTRPGs, and the ubiquity of DnD.

As someone who does not *love* DnD… it is still the only game I’ve tried with that particular vibe. And I don’t mean “medieval fantasy”.

I mean, an achievement fantasy underscored by mechanics built around an individual success-and-improvement narrative, with a large social component. (You win as a team, but you improve and grow as individual characters.)

This is mechanical, independent of what your DM may or may not put in the game.

Let me list it out.

DnD has no standard mechanics for detriments.

As much as there are possibilities for certain monsters and afflictions to permanently harm or alter a character against the player’s will, a DM has to actively choose to put those in their game, and even then there are typically ways to heal or fix them. In a typical game, there are no permanent, mechanically enforced negatives for your dude; no lingering injuries, no madness, no disabilities, etc.

Recovery mechanics are also simple and accessible (looking at you, Long Rest) and resources are not really set up to be scarce and/or a slog to track and ration.

(Mind you: I’m talking about mechanics that impose a permanent debuff or handicap on your character against your will as a feature of the game, not about playing a disabled character as your own choice.)

Simple, straightforward ability growth as a central mechanic.

DnD is almost entirely designed around characters becoming cooler and stronger over time. This ability growth is straightforward: no complicated skill tree system where you can get screwed over by your own suboptimal choices.

There is also no standard mechanic to lose abilities you’ve gained, nor is your degree of improvement every level left to chance. (The closest DnD comes to a chance mechanic in this area is rolling for HP, and even that’ll let you take average if you roll below). The game is set up to reward your character with ability growth just for continuing to play it.

Success narrative dominates.

The primary completion path in all DnD modules is “the characters win the day”. That’s what the game is about. And as much as some modules may try to subvert that with little bits of flavour text here and there, they’re doing so for show. The very manner a DM has to set up sessions is all about making the challenges appropriately levelled for the players to overcome. If you’re playing, you’re *supposed* to overcome the challenge. A game where everyone dies is not considered expected or desirable. And while a creative DM may occasionally set up an encounter the characters are expected to flee from… if it’s not telegraphed properly, the odds are they WILL die. Because the game is not set up for players to expect unbeatable challenges.

Significant character agency where it matters.

Agency is about more than just being able to make choices in-game. In DnD, you have the ability to make choices that feel situationally impactful. You’ll rarely have a situation where you consistently do everything “right”, roll well, and yet the enemy is entirely unaffected. Your abilities aren’t vague in power level or usefulness -even if you aren’t a particularly creative player, the stuff that’s on your character sheet that you can do is going to be at least moderately useful in most situations a typical game throws at you, even if applied with little finesse.

…

Like I said, I don’t *love* DnD. I’m not super sold on medieval fantasy to begin with, I’m pretty bad at basic number math (I have dyscalculia so this shit is hard for me), and I like supporting indie and less popular titles on principle.

But holy shit.

Can somebody tell TTRPG designers to please make a game that just lets me be cool and win at something?

I want to play a badass vampire! But in Vampire: The Masquerade, that’s kinda… Not Great. I want to be a faux-Victorian era paranormal investigator! But, ehm, Call of Cthulhu? Having my character die or go insane kinda sucks. I like scifi! But everything from Cyberpunk RED to the various iterations of Warhammer 40k RPG is bleak as fuck.

Mörk Borg? Dark and bleak. Candela Obscura? Dark and bleak. The Laundry? Dark and bleak.

(I’m not counting Pathfinder, as it’s basically just DnD with more math and a less straightforward character builder.)

I know I’m only scratching the very top surface of less ubiquitous TTRPGs here, but still. All these relatively well known and oft recommended titles completely fail to capture what makes DnD appealing to me -and I suspect, to many others.

In TTRPG spaces I often see people ask “Why modify and reskin DnD to be (insert aesthetic) if you can play (game designed in that aesthetic)?” And my answer is always the same. Because I want to have the DnD-style success experience, only with (cool aesthetic thing).

I want to play other games! I’m not hung up on medieval fantasy or the d20 system or spell slots or anything! I just… don’t want to play some bottom-feeding cannon fodder character in a Misery Simulator, engage with complex ethics as a game mechanic, run a one-person accountancy department to keep track of tons of scarce resources, have the other players as my de-facto opponents, be faced with challenges my character can’t do anything to overcome, invest hours into building a dude who gets offed in the first encounter, put my time in a game that progressively stacks detriments onto my character to shrink their success chances while the stakes keeps growing, etcetera etcetera.

Just, none of that edgy shit. Life’s plenty edgy already, I just want some easy escapism.

Anyway.

If anyone has recommendations for a TTRPG that sort of matches my list of requirements… I’m all ears. I like most stuff aesthetically tho I’m not super into either pirates or contemporary military as a theme. I also prefer games that don’t employ a gimmick (like jenga blocks, an hourglass, burning candles, etc).

[thecreaturecodex]

Agathion, Ophinal

"Snek" © Cindy Avelino, accessed at her ArtStation here

[The name "agathion" for Pathfinder's NG outsiders is derived from "agatho daemon", or the "fortunate spirits" of classical Greece. The agathodaemon, sometimes named Tycho, was popular in Ptolemaic Egypt, particularly in Alexandria. Which is why, for a venomous snake-based agathion, I feel comfortable slotting it into Africa for the World Tour project. For more information about snake veneration in the Greek world, Drakon by Daniel Ogden is an excellent book, and was the inspiration for this entry.]

Agathion, Ophidinal

CR 4 NG Outsider

This creature appears as a snake with a human torso and arms. Its scales are colorful, and its expression beatific.

An ophidinal is an agathion devoted to healing above all other arts. They serve heavenly forces and mortal temples alike as doctors, able to patch injuries, treat longer term ailments and expel most mundane and some magical afflictions with magic. Although their aspect resembles that of venomous snakes, they are actually anti-venomous; a creature bitten by an ophidinal has the toxins purged from its body, and any natural poisons it secretes temporarily suppressed.

Ophidinals dislike combat, and rarely choose to fight. They can defend themselves with teeth and claws if they must, but would prefer to heal than to harm. They are usually mobile on the battlefield, casting a sanctuary spell on themselves and then moving between allies to grant them support. In addition to healing, their touch can bring with it good fortune. An ophidinal will happily lay down its life to protect goodly allies. 

Unlike many agathions, which eschew civilization for wilder spaces, ophidinals are comfortable in buildings and cities. There are many hazards that urban populations have to deal with—hunger, disease, crime—and ophidinals work to minimize these impacts on common folk. An ophidinal is especially good at dealing with pests. Insects and rodents are often eaten as snacks, and venomous serpents are bitten to suppress their venom and then encouraged to take up residence elsewhere. Ophidinals are suitable for calling with lesser planar ally to act as a source of healing, and their prices for such services are typically taken in healing items magical and mundane, or simply blankets and digestible food to make the lives of the sick more comfortable.

An ophidinal is about eight feet long, but come up to about four foot high when posed upright. Some have hoods, eyelash scales, colored stripes, or other markers of particular species of venomous snake, sometimes mixed and matched in ways unseen in nature.

Ophidinal            CR 4

XP 1,200

NG Medium outsider (agathion, extraplanar, good)

Init +4; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception +13, scent, tremorsense 30 ft.

Defense

AC 18, touch 14, flat-footed 14 (+4 Dex, +4 natural)

hp 42 (5d10+15)

Fort +7, Ref +7, Will +7; +4 vs. poison

DR 5/evil; Immune electricity, petrifaction; Resist cold 10, sonic 10; SR 15

Offense

Speed 20 ft., climb 20 ft., swim 20 ft.

Melee bite +5 (1d4 plus antivenom), 2 claws +5 (1d3)

Spell-like Abilities CL 5th, concentration +7 (+11 casting defensively)

At will—detect poison, diagnose disease, sanctuary (DC 13), stabilize

3/day—cure moderate wounds, lesser restoration, protection from evil (DC 13), remove paralysis, remove sickness

1/day—remove blindness/deafness, remove curse, remove disease

Statistics

Str 10, Dex 19, Con 16, Int 13, Wis 16, Cha 15

Base Atk +5; CMB +5; CMD 19

Feats Alertness, Combat Casting, Lightning Reflexes

Skills Climb +12, Diplomacy +10, Heal +11, Knowledge (nature, planes) +9, Perception +13, Sense Motive +13, Stealth +12, Swim +12; Racial Modifiers uses Dexterity for Climb and Swim

Languages Celestial, Draconic, Infernal, speak with animals, truespeech

SQ bit of luck (6/day), healing ritual, lay on hands (5/day, 2d6), undersized weapons (small)

Ecology

Environment any land or urban (Nirvana)

Organization solitary, pair or clinic (3-6)

Treasure standard (healer’s kit, other treasure)

Special Abilities

Antivenom (Su) A creature bitten by an ophidinal automatically has any poison affecting it removed, as per a neutralize poison spell. A creature with a poison special attack that is bitten must succeed a DC 14 Will save or lose the ability to use its poison for one day per HD of the ophidinal (5 days for the average specimen). The save DC is Charisma based.

Bit of Luck (Su) An ophidinal can touch a willing creature as a standard action, giving it a bit of luck. For the next round, any time the target rolls a d20, he may roll twice and take the more favorable result. An ophidinal can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + its Wisdom modifier (6/day for a typical specimen).

Healing Ritual (Ex) By increasing the casting time for any of its spell-like abilities with the healing subschool to one minute, an ophidinal can grant itself a +4 bonus to its caster level for the purposes of the spell’s effect.

[mae-i-scribble]

Random thoughts about the orv epilogue pt 2/???

This time: how stories have the power to heal

But wait, isn’t literally all of orv about how stories are necessary for people down to the point of people literally having story packs inserted into them as medical treatment? Why the hell are you talking about it in reference to the epilogues? While it may be true that from kdj’s introduction as the sole reader of twsa the idea of stories necessity to humanity was being discussed by the narrative, very little is actually done to show the sort of progressive healing power of stories that the epilogues highlight. Twsa undoubtedly saved kdj, it gave him the strength to get up day after day, to keep pushing forward. When his life had no meaning, it was what gave his life that purpose. However by doing so, it is not helping him to heal, only to move forward. Kdj’s use of twsa to cope with his life is only that: a way to cope. It’s incredibly effective and meaningful, but is balm on a wound that will keep festering, because what kdj truly needs to heal is years of support and love from the people around him, along with a shit load of therapy but I digress.

In much the same way, stories are shown to be the fuel and lifeblood of the star stream’s main inhabitants: the constellations. Far from heal or improve the constellation’s lives however, a constant drive for new, interesting, and thrilling stories is equivalent to an affliction. Stories are seen as sustenance, a source of power, something to be watched and consumed secondhandedly, and are desired with an intensity that mirrors addiction. Of course, this does not hold true for every constellation, but it is true that all our bound by this system to keep pursuing more and more stories, whether they want to or not.

Addressing the mechanical incorporation of the stories’ healing effects; yes, it is a blatantly obvious way to show said theme. However, I would argue that it falls much more in line with the idea of stories being necessary for survival and not so much stories can heal. It is a minor but effective distinction.

So, the type of healing I refer to when I say the epilogues discuss how stories help people to heal is the emotional journey kimcom goes through as they struggle to come to terms with the loss of kdj. After failing to get him back after the group regression, the entire group goes their separate ways. Being together hurts them too much so they force themselves to drift apart. That is, until Sooyoung reveals the story she’s writing. Sooyoung, the author who couldn’t put a word down to paper after the trauma of what happened, had started to write her first story since then. It’s the story meant for her first ever reader, but it’s also meant for her, and in turn becomes something written not only to try and bring Dokja back, but for the sake of their entire group. She writes the story she wants to show to kdj the most, the story of his life as she knows it. She excuses it by saying it’s just in case kdj wakes up, which is logically such a flimsy argument that it becomes obvious that writing the was for her personal benefit. But as she shows the rest of the company that story, one by one they’re all sucked in, remembering the person they loved and for the first time, not retreating into silence, as they had moments before reading the story. There is pain, there is hurt, but more than all of that, there is remembrance and there is love. More than just kdj, the group is able to reminisce on their times during the scenarios with that same fondness, an idea they couldn’t fathom before. While one could argue that the ensuing manuscript is part of Sooyoung’s plan to try to bring back kdj, she states herself that this plan is practically impossible, the hurdles for it to succeed are too large. The rest of the kimcom expresses the same, saying they’re tired of hoping. But when Sooyoung asks them to help so that she can use to say goodbye to the past once and for all, everyone pitches in. After years spent apart, meetings spent tip toeing around anything that reminded them of kdj, kimcom is really and truly back together. That is because of this story. Only by writing about kdj and experiencing what others have to say about him are they each able to truly begin healing from his loss. Not alone, but together, not just by examining their own memories of him, but by telling those memories to another as a story. They even start demanding side stories, to tell their own experiences through the same medium because of the joy it has brought them to watch kdj’s story blossom. This is what it means to have a story heal a person. They are not simply surviving off of it, but are growing and steadying themselves to one day walk past it. This story is one of closure, of new beginnings. Whether it brings back kdj or not, it will let his companions finally move forward with their lives.

(A small little note bc im emo after rereading, all this unfortunately does not pertain to yjh, who was probably never going to be able to adjust to a world without kdj, even if he had told his side of the story with the others and sent it on its way. He’s literally ready to die trying to deliver this story to kdj. Sure, he wants nothing more then for it to reach the man, but if he dies he knows he will always be a point of hope to the people he left behind, and that’s okay, because he thinks that if his life is enough to save a handful of people, then it will have been worth it)

Part 1 | ... | Part 3

[girlcalledwhatsername]

God give me the strength to not pick fights with people complaining about how every person who says anything about what helps them or others with their mental illnesses not following it up with a disclaimer of "you still need meds and therapy tho!!". There is no Single way to heal. Those therapies are often traumatising especially if you're suicidal and mention it to your therapist and they put you in a ward for it or because of the sheer amount of trauma a lot of people have with their therapists abusing the power they hold over their clients. And you'd think the blind faith in psych meds that were already founded on bogus science that was never properly proven to be true (the brain chemistry model) would at least dwindle now with the studies showing there's no correlation between serotonin and depression after all. Further readings and an organisation working on community based alternatives.

Another one and you can look at associated pages to find more, anti-psychiatry is the roots of mental health advocacy by mentally ill people who are marginalised and abused and oppressed by the system of psychiatry, it's nothing new and anti-science. Psychiatry is not an institution that is based on honest science.

I cannot believe the callousness of going to people or to creators or blogs or whatever that are talking about self care, about community care, about what helps them survive their afflictions, and having the audacity to say "you still need your meds tho, tell everyone mentally ill people need meds otherwise this is irresponsible and anti-science" no the fuck it's not. Therapy can help many people but it can and does likewise harm a lot of people too. People have the right to choose their treatment and choose how they want to heal from their traumas, you don't get to dictate that Western medicine has to be advocated by EVERYONE for them to be serious about their mental health. Psychiatric survivors are already traumatised by Psychiatry and speaking out about it and advocating for themselves and being thrown under the bus by people who don't care enough to organise and create a community that we can rely on.

Blind faith support for Psychiatry is Not Woke, it is Not Pro-science. And expecting people to advocate for it every time they so much as say "this comfort item helps with my disorder and distress!" is genuinely disgusting behaviour.

[traumacatholic]

Can you please pray for me im suffering too much and i am very suicidal. Thank you so so much. <3

Of course, may God bless you and have mercy on you. May He send you the comfort and strength that you need. Please also do try your best to reach out to people in your life about this, preferably a doctor if possible or look into a mental health support service that you can call or send an email to. It's always a good idea to have multiple forms of support that are aware of how you're currently feeling. And charitable mental health resources might be able to help you to engage with accessible resources and support. I know that at least here, some of them do offer workshops or free counselling and support that you can access.

I'm going to attach some prayers under the read more, hopefully some of them will be of help to you. Please also check my mental health tag, as I do share a lot of workbooks and other resources and apps that you might find beneficial to engage with. A lot of these resources are free.

Prayer against Depression: Prayer to the Mother of God

O my beloved Queen, my hope, O Mother of God, protector of orphans and protector of those who are hurt, the saviour of those who perish, and the consolation of all who are in distress: Thou seest my misery, thou seeset my sorrow and my loneliness. Help me; I am powerless. Give me strength. Thou knowest what I suffer, thou knowest my grief. Lend me thy hand, for who else can be my hope but thee, my protector and my intercessor before God? I have sinned before thee and before all people. Be thou my Mother, my consoler, my helper. Protect me and save me; chase grief away from me; chase away my lowness of heart and my despondency. Help me, O Mother of my God!

Prayer against Depression and Sorrow

O Greatly-merciful Master, Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me and cleanse me from every sadness and disturbance and cowardice. Drive away from me every spiritual choking and demonic sorrow, that I sense in my body and my soul. For You are our Joy, and the Hope of all the ends of the earth, and those far off at sea. Be merciful to me, O Master, upon my sins. Take from me the heavy burden of sin and despair. Drive far away from me every sadness and laziness. Confirm me in Your Love, and with unassailable hope and unshakable faith in You, through the intercessions of Your Spotless Mother, and all Your Saints. Amen.

Prayer for Mental Health

O Master, Lord my God, in Whose hands is my destiny: Help me according to Thy mercy, and leave me not to perish in my transgressions, nor allow me to follow them who place desires of the flesh over those of the spirit. I am Thy creation; disdain not the work of Thy hands. Turn not away; be compassionate and humiliate me not, neither scorn me, O Lord, as I am weak. I have fled unto Thee as my Protector and God. Heal my soul, for I have sinned against Thee. Save me for Thy mercy's sake, for I have cleaved unto Thee from my youth; let me who seeks Thee not be put to shame by being rejected by Thee for mine unclean actions, unseemly thoughts, and unprofitable remembrances. Drive away from me every filthy thing and excess of evil. For Thou alone art holy, alone mighty, and alone immortal, in all things having unexcelled might, which, through Thee, is given to all that strive against the devil and the might of his armies. For unto Thee is due all glory, honor and worship: To the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen (source)

Prayer to St. Anastasia the Greatmartyr

O holy saint Anastasia, healer and minister to captives, who did suffer greatly as a martyr while relieving the suffering of the poor and the sick, pray for us who are ill in soul and in body. Relieve us by your intercessions from the illnesses of our minds, from all evil temptation that seeks to disturb us, and from the suffering of our many afflictions. We ask these things boldly of you as you boldly approach the throne of our Lord Jesus Christ who alone is the Healer and Lover of Mankind. Amen.

Your lamb Anastasia, calls out to You, O Jesus, in a loud voice: ‘I love You, my Bridegroom, and in seeking You I endure suffering. In baptism, I was crucified so that I might reign in You, and I died so that I might live with You. Accept me as a pure sacrifice, for I have offered myself in love.’ Through her prayers save our souls, since You are merciful.

Prayers to Saint Dymphna (These can be said individually, or you could put them all together)

I turn to you, dear virgin and martyr, confident of your power with God and of your willingness to take my cause into your hands. I praise and bless the Lord for giving you to us as patron of the nervous and emotionally disturbed. I firmly hope that through your kind intercession He will restore my lost serenity and peace of mind. May He speak to my heart and reassure me: "My peace I give you. Let not your heart be troubled nor let it be afraid." Pray for me, dear St. Dymphna, that my nervous and emotional turmoil may cease, and that I may again know serenity and personal peace. Amen.

I appeal to you in my illness, dear St. Dymphna. I would be so grateful for a total and happy recovery, for the blessed gift of health in every fiber of my being. May the Lord Jesus, who mercifully healed the sick during His earthly days, have pity on me and make me well again. Ask Him to command sickness to depart and grant me a full measure of health, that I may rejoice in giving Him glory and praise. Amen.

Glorious St. Dymphna, you are the patron of the nervous and emotionally disturbed. I am certain, however, that your charity embraces everyone. I am certain that you lend a listening ear to any prayer offered for any special need. You will, I am sure, take my problem to heart and pray for me that it may be happily settled. (Here mention your special problem or difficulty.) You will plead for me and obtain the help I need. Already I offer you my sincere and grateful thanks, so great is my confidence that God will hear and answer your prayers. Amen. St. Dymphna, Virgin and Martyr, pray for us. St. Dymphna, patron of nervous and emotional illnesses, pray for us. St. Dymphna, crowned for the glory in heaven, pray for us. St. Dymphna, faithful to your covenant with Christ, pray for us. St. Dymphna, precious in the eyes of the Lord, pray for us. St. Dymphna, our helper in every need, pray for us. St. Dymphna, our friend at heave's court, pray for us.

[crimsonsongbird]

RATCHET'S RECOVERY

To offer extra support while aiding in emotional or physical healing. Inspired by Ratchet from the Transformers franchise.

What You Will Need:

A small green drawstring pouch

Feverfew

Peppermint

1 red jasper or a few crystal chips

1 clear quartz or a few crystal chips

1 citrine, any size

🩺 Settle in a quiet, comfortable place where you will not be disturbed or distracted. Have all of your spell ingredients nearby and ready to use.

🩺 Start by closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Inhale for 4 seconds, hold for 4 seconds, then exhale for 4 seconds. Repeat until your breathing is calm and even. Allow your muscles to unclench and relax as you breathe.

🩺 Now focus your thoughts on Ratchet. He is the Autobot’s Medical Officer and has extensive knowledge on all medical issues, both robot and human. He also has access to the internet, so he has educated himself thoroughly. Focus on his expertise and how it could help you heal, emotionally or physically. 

🩺 Open your eyes and grab the citrine crystal. This brilliant yellow gem will represent the vibrant yellow of Ratchet’s body. Citrine is also a crystal said to bring joy to whoever is around it. Allow this crystal to uplift you during these painful times. Place the stone into the green pouch.

🩺 Next grab the red jasper crystal or crystal chips. The red jasper will represent the blood that pulses through your veins and the nutrients that it carries. Jasper is also said to be a stone of healing that offers support during times of stress. Allow this crystal to support you. Place the red jasper into the green pouch. 

🩺 Grab the clear quartz crystal or crystal chips next. This crystal will amplify the effects of all the ingredients involved in this spell. Clear quartz is also considered a “master healer”, so allow it to help you heal the parts of you that you are struggling to heal yourself. Place the clear quartz into the green pouch.

🩺 Obtain a pinch of feverfew and sprinkle it into the green pouch. This herb will help your body to physically heal the ailments that have afflicted you during this time of ill health. Feverfew is often referred to as “medieval aspirin”, so allow its healing energy to aid your body and mind.

🩺 Now obtain a pinch of peppermint leaves and sprinkle them into the green pouch. This herb is known for its healing properties, both internally and externally. Allow the peppermint to soothe your body, alleviating any soreness or nausea, and allow its sweet scent to calm your mind. Now close the pouch and tie it off.

🩺 Hold the pouch in your dominant hand and say, “With this pouch, I am under Ratchet’s care. His medical expertise will help to heal my body and calm my mind. His genuine concern will bring me comfort during this painful time. I am safe under his watchful gaze.”

🩺 The spell is now complete. Clean up your space and remember to carry the pouch with you when you need a little extra healing support. 

[yukiwrites]

Motherhood and Love

Thanks for the support yet again, @mourningstorms! I had a blast writing and crying with this, so I hope you like the pain! ;v;)b

Summary: Kagero escaped Shirasagi, pregnant and wounded. Now, she would have to build a life for herself away from the scars of the war, away from Nohr, Hoshido, and all memories she had with her loved ones...

Commission info HEREand HERE!

__________________________

Kagero was a skilled kunoichi.

She had been strong, resolute, and served her liege and love with everything she had. She devoted all she had to her cause, to her clan, to her love. She could do all that and more on her own.

She could serve, she could fight, she could carry out any missions given to her.

However, she had reached a wall that she could not climb on her own.

Kagero could not heal inner wounds.

No matter how much she excelled at treating outward wounds; no matter how skilled she was in sewing shut her own flesh without wincing, she could not use a staff on her womb to save her waning baby.

Using the chaos of Shirasagi’s fall to escape through the shadows, Kagero managed to leave, albeit not unscathed. Her body had been beset with cuts, scratches and broken arrows, yet she managed to summon strength from the depth of her soul to be able to flee.

She protected her stomach from any and all attacks, acquiring more than a few blows to the head and shoulders as consequence, but it did not matter. She would heal.

But what of the child? The bleeding had stopped, but she was terrified.

What if the small life had ebbed away along with the miniscule amount of blood she bled? What if she had failed to protect what little she had left of her only liege and love?

Through her blurry vision and broken body, Kagero crawled through gutters and hid under trees. Through her feverish skin and painful self-applied first aid, Kagero limped through uneven terrain.

Covering herself with filthy robes stolen from a corpse, Kagero marched on, deep in the forest. She couldn’t waste any time. She had to arrive within two days.

What if it was too late?

No.

She had to arrive within one day.

Her wounds would heal, but if the baby… 

She couldn’t bear the thought.

Hearing her own rasped breathing and moving only through her memories as her vision had darkened hours ago, Kagero climbed the mountain behind Shirasagi.

There was a temple hidden within the mountains, one that precious few knew the existence of. The monks there likely did not participate in the war nor did they send anyone down to assist.

They were closed off from the world, as the world was closed off from them. There was barely, if any, interaction with outsiders.

It was known as a place old priests gathered to die to meet the Dawn Dragon. They lived on only as much as their old bones allowed, and were buried within the mountain closest to the Divine Ones — the Royal Family; the ones ‘touched’ by the Dawn Dragon millenia ago.

Even in her feverish haze, Kagero thought of that place first. Even if they didn’t come down to aid with the war or heal the afflicted, they would not turn away a wounded person at their doorstep. Such was not the way of a priest.

Kagero heaved, using a branch as a walking stick as she sensed the building nearing. She could feel people inside and some outside as well, but although her senses had dulled due to her state, her body could not take it anymore and collapsed just as she heard someone drop a broom in surprise.

She heard as though through a thick glass. Uneven steps — mayhaps from a one-legged man with a walking cane — approached and the weight of a hand on her hood made her body feel heavier by the second. With each breath she took, taking the next was harder.

“The baby… Save the baby…” her lips said although what came out was but a mumble. “Save it… save… it…” she clenched her teeth as her body stopped obeying. Warm tears rolled down her face as the darkness slowly encroached around her body.

She could see herself crouching while holding her stomach.

“Forgive me, Lord Ryoma… Forgive… me.” She sobbed in the dark, hitting her head on the floor.

Thud. Thud.

Thud.

Thu-

“Stop that,” a soft hand placed itself between her head and the hard stone. “You’ve always been like that. Working harder than anyone.”

Kagero’s eyes shook. That voice…

She looked up in awe as a face that was much like her own yet somehow more delicate, sickly and masculine smiled back at her.

“Kagemitsu?” her brother’s name rolled off her tongue with the ease of habit. “This… can’t be right.”

“Mhm, you got that right,” Kagemitsu chuckled, taking a seat beside her. His skin was as pale as the last time she had seen him — on his deathbed — and the smile was comfortable on his lips.

He had been born with a weak complexion and was never able to be up to par with the training required for a ninja, so it was up to Kagero to prove her family’s loyalty to the Crown by serving with everything she had.

Of course, she never once resented her brother for it — after all, how could she resent him for something he did not choose? Besides, Kagero would’ve never been able to serve Ryoma weren’t she working so hard to make up for her brother’s illness.

It was ironic, in a way.

To be thankful for something that had always plagued him during his numbered days.

She had been happy to serve. She had been glad to have met, and loved, Ryoma.

She was happy to—

Gasping, Kagero touched her stomach once more, looking up at her brother. “The baby—”

“It’s okay, Little Sis. It’s gonna be okay.” He placed a placating hand on her shoulder, shushing her with the other. “You did it. You got there in time.” He brought her to a hug — one that she hadn’t had in years, not after he… “You can rest a bit now.”

Overwhelmed by the warmth a dead man should not be able to give, Kagero’s heavy eyelids closed once again. 

Beside her, in the waking world, a priest was pouring healing magic on her stomach as she turned her head almost deliriously.

“The baby…” she mumbled, gripping protectively at her stomach.

The old priest did not ask questions, nor did the others who helped carry her inside.

They did not even lift her hood, though they folded the yellow scarf that had come loose just as she arrived at the temple and placed it beside her. If it weren’t for the scarf flying off at the time it did, they wouldn’t have noticed someone so silent and so dirty coming from the back as she had. Her camouflage was so perfect it was only due to the scarf’s color that they managed to find her at the end of her rope.

Kagemitsu’s scarf.

It was said that priests came to die at that temple.

It was a place closer to death than any other in Hoshido, and perhaps, because of that, Kagero and Kagemitsu could meet once more.

Or perhaps that was wishful thinking of a woman resigned on abandoning all she had ever known to live a life in obscurity.

Even years after that, Kagero still wasn’t able to truly explain what had happened that day. What she did know, for certain, was that she left as soon as she woke, under the cover of the night, never to be seen again by silent, isolated priests.

The priests had been truly generous: they saved not only her baby, but herself as well. She woke up with a lighter body and a heavy burden, a burden that she would carry for as long as she drew breath. Without hesitation, Kagero wrapped herself with her brother’s scarf and disappeared into the darkness, trekking farther and farther away from the Capital.

The further she went into the forest, the more frequent she noticed the inconspicuous ninja messages left all over the place.

As she had predicted, the ninja had scattered, but would never truly be stamped out. The messages were simple yet intricate if one had the time to decipher them. However, to the unknown onlooker, they seemed to be simply random assortments of rocks, scratches on tree barks or flower arrangements.

For the trained eye, however, they contained much information.

There were many who were climbing west to the Divine Dragon’s Forest, or some who climbed further north to hide away within the mountains. That had been one of the many places Kagero thought of as well, but the messages proved useful in the opposing way: Kagero stopped on her tracks and turned back, heading south instead.

She would circle through the very path the nohrians took to march up within Hoshido, so it would be a much more dangerous path.

However, once she went past the ruins of Fort Jinya and headed south west between the mountains of the Eternal Staircase, she would reach uncharted territory.

There were once many ninja villages further south, but now that they’d scattered, they were fleeing up north. Kagero had to find a middle ground secluded enough that ordinary people wouldn’t find her, but not so out of the way that she would bump into other ninjas.

She was confident that she could live on the move on her own, but once the baby was born… She would need to settle down, at least for the first few years until it was able to travel with her.

Besides, there were a few settlements within the mountain range that Kagero would need to get acquainted with, if only for the last part of her term.

No matter how strong a woman she was, she could not give birth alone. She had no confidence.

So Kagero marched on.

Through soot and ash of beloved places she walked; through blood and sweat she marched. She slept on top of trees, under tall roots and within shallow caves. She foraged, she hunted and she sustained herself with the knowledge of a past so far gone it seemed like it all happened in another life.

Once, she had been surrounded by comrades. Once, she had a brother.

Once, she had a best friend.

Once, she had… she had a love.

A love she realized far too late to be able to convey; a love that took root inside her womb and was about to bear fruit. A love she would never be sure of its reciprocity.

Kagero’s steps faltered whenever her mind wandered. During cold nights, she could feel Ryoma’s touches as if they had just happened. She could feel his warmth and the tickling of his breath on her ears; she could feel his might and the strength with which he held her hand while she served.

She often woke up after dreaming with such nights; nights Ryoma looked at her as if she was something so utterly unattainable that he felt unworthy; nights he would call her name but never finish his sentence; nights he would kiss her hair so lovingly she envied it, wanting his lips for her own.

What did she look like then? What was her expression, what had she done?

… She had been losing herself in her service for so long, she barely remembered her training anymore. She just wanted to melt under Ryoma’s touch and hold him until the breath left her body. She wanted to protect him and shoulder him from everything that could bring him harm.

Kagero would wake up after such dreams and clench her fists and teeth so hard they would bleed.

She had only herself now.

No… No, she had this baby now.

It took Kagero many, many weeks to arrive at a suitable place. Shielded by the mountain yet high enough to be able to see any who trekked upwards, the spot had potential to be her home for next few years. There was a spring close by, a bountiful forest and many birds around.

She considered domesticating a baby hawk once she settled down; it would prove useful in scouting and guarding the place from above.

However, for the time being, she had to build a safe haven from the ground up. She knew the basics of house building, though lacked the experience. As she cut the logs and polished them, time passed.

As she climbed down to watch carpenters at work and learn, time passed.

As she perfected her craft and focused on the task at hand, time passed.

The building didn’t have to be a masterpiece. Rather, the simpler it looked from outside, the better. She only wanted it to have at least one or two emergency exits that led into the mountain, so she had a fair amount of digging involved, as well.

She busied herself day and night, avoiding thinking and dreaming alike.

However, time was relentless, and her pregnancy advanced quickly. Looking back at the hut she built, Kagero hid it with vines and broken branches on the day she decided it was time to mingle with the locals until she gave birth.

She wrapped her scarf around her kimono, using it as an obi, and readied herself. Cutting her bangs and tying her hair behind her back as a demure village girl would, Kagero trekked down to a village. Since she had stalked, er, researched them for the past few months, she already knew their names, occupations and overall personalities.

There was a retired midwife at the settlement she chose.

Under the name ‘Mitsu’, Kagero pretended to be a starving widow who had run after her husband died during the war. As there were many such cases all around the neighboring settlements, no one questioned her words — after all, she was heavily pregnant — and accepted her into their homes with open arms and warm hearts.

Kagero wore the mask of Mitsu with the excellence of a kunoichi; smiling brightly at their call and acting like a devoted housewife to the people who took her in. As she had planned, the old midwife offered an empty room in her home for Mitsu to stay in, for as long as she wanted.

It may have belonged to her child, back in the day. The old woman did not talk much about it, though she was very caring in the way she treated Mitsu and her growing baby.

“He’ll be a big man, no doubt,” she said one day as she examined the swelling stomach. “I can see the father was a big warrior, wasn’t he?”

A crack in Mitsu’s mask almost allowed Kagero to slip through, but she managed to recover just as quickly as it came. “Yes,” she said in a higher pitched tone than her actual voice, pretending even in the way the words came out of her lips. “He was… the strongest.”

“Oh, dear, look at me being al’ inconsiderate and such,” the old woman waved her hand. “Don’t mind me, dear. When you get to my age, you lose a bit of touch, you see,” she giggled, setting Mitsu off as well. “But enough of that,” she tapped Mitsu’s belly. “Have you been talking to your baby? It’s important to let him hear his mother’s voice.”

“Talking with it? No…” Mitsu tilted her head to the side in confusion. Kagero wasn’t one for talking, much less talking to herself. She had spent the vast majority of her term without uttering a single word. In fact, the first time she spoke after that meeting with the priests was when she came into this village.

“That’s not good, dearie.” The old woman booped Mitsu’s nose, who blinked like a confused cat. “You two will be together for a long, loong time, so it’s good to let the little one know you a bit better before you meet, don’t you think?”

Mitsu frowned slightly, “I think so? I’m not sure I understand, frankly.”

“Just try it tonight, hmm?” The woman slapped her knee and got up with difficulty. Mitsu helped her up and out of the room. “Thank you, dearie. These old bones aren’t what they used to be, now!” She laughed brightly, the wrinkles around her eyes and nose dancing with a strange, yet comforting rhythm.

The rhythm of life.

Life that went on after the war; life that went on after death.

Life that would be born even amidst the wreckage left by a hidden past.

Meeting people again turned Kagero even more introspective. Were she not wearing the mask of Mitsu, she would’ve spent most of her time thinking instead of talking.

These people were all so bright, so full of life. They had lost loved ones to tragedy just as she had, but they found comfort in community. They rebuilt; they weaved their new life together.

Kagero looked down at her stomach, caressing it as she often did ever since she found out she was pregnant.

Now, however, as opposed to then, she could sometimes feel the baby kicking to touch her hand in response. She felt it move when she lied down and felt it settle down once she started working.

Together… They would be together.

She had been preparing for it the whole term, but had never truly given it much thought. She thought of the hypothetical future of being with her child, but it all felt so foreign, even now.

Was it because she never talked to it, like the old woman said?

Alone in her room after the old woman went to sleep, Kagero sat on the bed, caressing her stomach.

“...” She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

As Kagero, talking was much more difficult than as Mitsu.

As herself, she didn’t know what to say. What did she have to say? What could she say?

Her nose itched as she tried to force the words out, emotion pooling in her eyes the longer she tried.

“B-baby…” she struggled, the word taking so much out of her she sniffled, drying an overflowing tear. Immediately did the baby kick, as if glad to finally hear its mother’s voice. Kagero blinked in surprise, taking her hand away for a moment before placing it right back. “Hello, baby. I am your mother, Mi— Kagero. But do not call me that here, understand?” Once she said the first word, the following one was easier, and so was the next one. Soon, she was talking nonsense as tears streamed down her face. “We are undercover here. I will teach you the basics once you are old enough, but,” she sniffled, drying her wet face, “for now you will have to trust me, your Mo— your… Mother.” The word felt foreign in her lips, and it took Kagero a lot to utter it.

A lump formed in her throat as she tried to repeat it.

Talking had never been so difficult.

She thought she had no one to talk to anymore. Her talkative friend, Orochi, was basically the only one left with whom she could speak freely, but she had died at the start of the war. Kagero turned introspective then. After her comrades fell one by one, she naturally spoke less and less, until she stopped speaking altogether.

Putting her thoughts and feelings into words was more difficult than climbing up a mountain barehanded. And she had climbed several mountains in the past.

Sobbing silently, Kagero could not conquer the lump in her throat that night. Try as she might, she couldn’t utter a single word after that, so she decided it would be better for Kagero to sleep and for Mitsu to take over once morning came.

As Mitsu, she chatted with the villagers and did the chores around the house as naturally as she had never had a breakdown just a few hours ago. Acting as Mitsu helped Kagero focus on what she had to do at the moment: and that was to talk with the baby.

She mustered all of her strength the following night, but no words came out.

She did, instead, realize that it would be counterproductive to act against her own nature like that. It would be better to convey her feelings through art, so she picked up a pencil and paper and drew what motherhood was in her eyes.

Even though it looked like the All-seing Eye in the middle of a pool of blood, it brought much relief to the worried ninja, to the point of sagging her shoulders and unlocking her speech once again. “Hello again, baby. Can you see this?” she lifted the drawing closer to the candle light. “I don’t think I should show my stomach the paper, so it should be able to see it through my eyes, no?” She talked to no one in particular, amazed that she was able to do so in the first place. “Your… your mother likes to draw, if you haven’t noticed. She, uh, I haven’t really picked up art since a long time ago, so it’s reassuring to hold a pencil again. Thank you for helping me realize that, baby.”

There was no response as opposed to last night’s attempt, but Kagero was content to be able to actually speak as herself after struggling for an entire night. The words flowed out more easily as she spoke about art and how she viewed the world.

Soon, dawn broke.

Kagero had never talked that much before, not even when Orochi asked her out to gossip. It had usually always been Orochi doing the talking, so this was a whole new experience for her. 

Little by little, day by day, Kagero spoke to her baby. She talked about her art at first, then about her brother, then about her friends… But never about Ryoma. Whenever she tried to bring up its father, the lump returned to her throat.

She couldn’t do it.

She didn’t think she would ever be able to do it.

… Or so she thought. But when the day came that her water broke and she entered labor, her entire world shook.

The pain of delivery and the foreign sound of her own cries echoing in the cheap walls made Kagero dizzy. She had had lessons with the old woman about giving birth, so she was sure she would be able to do it even unconsciously, but the entire experience was something else entirely.

She felt her body molding itself to push out the baby, and she felt the baby’s impatience to be able to finally see the world its mother spoke of so much for the past few weeks. Kagero cried loudly, sobbing as she gripped at the sheets and dug her teeth into the piece of cloth the old woman told her to bite.

She had fought and bled all of her life. She had trained, she had served, she had sewed her own wounds shut. She had so many experiences with pain, but none quite as frightening. She was in so much pain, but beyond that, she was so worried.

Will it be born okay? Was everything alright down there? What would it think of the world? What would she do once she held it? Would it be healthy? Would it, would it, would it… 

She was terrified. Sobbing, she used every ounce of strength she had to bring the baby into the world, rallied by the midwife’s shouts. Her own screams filled the room until after one final push— it happened.

The baby’s cries resounded within and without the walls, bringing a new life to the dreary, yet hopeful little hamlet.

Kagero’s ears rang. It had been born. It was finally, finally here.

“It’s a big boy as I thought!” The midwife laughed heartily, swiftly washing and bundling up the baby to bring it to Mitsu’s embrace. “Look at that lung power! This young man has a lot to say!” She laughed, handing him to Kagero.

Panting and dizzy, Kagero looked at the baby bundled in her brother’s scarf and sobbed, holding it preciously within her breast. “Shiro…” she sobbed, kissing the boy’s forehead. “Shiro, my light in the darkest times…”

The midwife dried her tears and left Mitsu alone for a moment, as she cried while holding the big, loud and red Shiro.

“My son, my light, my… our child, my Lord…” she sobbed and sobbed, the mask of Mitsu nowhere to be found within her whirlwind of emotions.

She had never seen Ryoma quite so young, but she knew Shiro had to take that after him. Her family was actually more towards the lean side, while Ryoma was built like a big man. Later, Kagero would hear from the midwife about how amazing it was that her first baby ended up being such a big one and that she gave birth so quickly considering all that.

But that was a story for later. For now, Kagero would rest, with Shiro within her arms, protected by her brother’s scarf that had saved her life once in the past.

The first time Shiro opened his eyes and looked up to Kagero, her legs felt so weak they almost gave out under her. The boy looked so much like Ryoma it made her nervous.

If any of the villagers had ever seen the High Prince before, ever so briefly, they would have recognized his son.

Kagero’s heart filled with dread.

It was her plan to leave once she had stabilized herself enough to trek up to her safe haven, yes, but if word got out that a woman had a baby so similar to Ryoma… Nowhere would be safe.

Thus, Kagero decided to hide Shiro until it was time to leave.

She covered his face with the scarf whenever the villagers visited, and never took it off during the day so the midwife couldn’t see him. She played her Mitsu role perfectly, so no one suspected anything — after all, why would they suspect a first time mother? She looked so innocent and clueless and protective they never second guessed her actions.

The midwife certainly saw his face after he came out, but Kagero wanted to bet on the probability of his face being squished or distorted by the crying enough that she wouldn’t have noticed. Kagero could take care of the old woman just as easily, but… she did not want to.

She put the ninja life behind her. She didn’t want to tie loose ends like that anymore. Not when it pertained to someone who helped her without asking anything back in return. No.

Kagero would simply vanish during the night and leave a note about going back to her hometown now that she felt well enough to travel and be done with it.

Yet, as if sensing that their parting was coming, the old woman held Mitsu’s hand one evening — the very same evening Kagero planned on leaving, actually — and told her in a warm, comforting voice.

“Remember to keep talking to your baby, you hear? He’ll have a lot to say when he grows up, but only if you give him room to.”

“Thank you, Granny,” Mitsu smiled warmly and innocently, holding the old woman as if she were her true grandmother. Thank you for everything, Kagero thanked silently in her heart, squeezing her just a tad more before letting go.

That was the last time they saw each other.

Kagero went back to her safe haven after months of being away, though this time with Shiro strapped on her back.

Now, the real work would begin in earnest: she had to stock her food supply, check the escape routes and scout around for any ninja messages close by. If there were any traces of ninja nearby, she would have to forsake this place and find another one.

Thankfully, however, there didn’t seem to be any uprising ninja hamlet nearby, nor any mention of ninjas at all in the surroundings, in fact. She would be able to rest easy, for the time being.

Once inside, she placed Shiro on the bedding she had just made with the cloths she brought from the village. Gazing down at the boy that grew more and more into Ryoma, she felt terrified yet comforted at the same time.

She felt terrified at how deep her love for Ryoma had been and stupid at how long it took for her to realize it. She knew she loved him, yes, but once she gazed into Shiro’s eyes that were a reflection of Ryoma’s, she couldn’t help but sob.

She had loved him so much. No, she still loved him so deeply, so encroachingly deeply it was difficult for her to breathe, let alone put such feelings on canvas. Each time she looked at Shiro and saw Ryoma, her eyes itched and her nose burned.

It had been such a painful, yet rewarding love. She held him within these arms, and was held in his in return. She eased his burdens and aided in his work. It was with her that he fell asleep and within her that he woke up.

Many nights Kagero caught herself caressing his hair as he slept in her embrace, kissing his frown until it melted away. Many nights Kagero trailed her hands around his scars, remembering each and every one of them, and how proud some of them made him.

Many nights Kagero couldn’t sleep as she struggled to keep her feelings hidden lest they inconvenienced the fair and upright lord he had always been. She was merely serving with her body, but she had carelessly given her heart to him in the process.

He took it and held it so preciously within his rough, calloused hands that it made her want to cry. Many nights he held her so tenderly as if holding a beloved princess it made her want to beg him to say he loved her.

The words were at the tip of her tongue so many times she lost count.

She wanted to convey these feelings; not through art, not through actions, but through words. She wanted to tell him she loved him and she wanted to hear him say it in return.

She wanted to simply be a woman named Kagero who loved and was loved by a man named Ryoma. Was that too much to ask?

Shiro squirmed in her touch as if confirming her thoughts, grounding her back to reality.

She had loved Ryoma, and her love for him would continue to grow alongside Shiro.

Would she ever, ever know the answer to her voiceless questions? What was Ryoma trying to say whenever he called her name but never finished his sentence? Would he tell her what she wanted or what she dreaded to hear?

Shiro’s existence was something akin to a miracle itself, as if the answer she wanted would come out of Shiro’s own lips when the time was right. Ryoma would speak through Shiro; speak everything he could have never said as a High Prince, as a Lord, as a superior.

He would speak as only a man; a father, a person who held someone precious to him and had their encounter bear fruit. Kagero would live on with Shiro, along with the memory of a man she loved and will continue to love until the end of her days.